The arrow had been loosed, and the bow had given forth a strange
deep musical sound.

Robin looked sharply at Little John, and the big outlaw looked down
at him.

"Where did that arrow go?" said the boy.

"Let's see," said Little John.

"I don't think we shall ever find it again," continued Robin.

They walked back, the outlaw very slowly, and Robin quite fast so
as to keep up with him.

"Perhaps not," said Little John, "but I don't often lose my arrows."

"This one has gone right through the ferns," thought Robin, and he
felt glad with the thought of the big fellow having missed the
mark, but as they walked nearer, he kept his eyes fixed upon the
great trunk dimly seen in the shade, being tripped up twice by the
bracken fronds; but he saved himself from a fall and watched the
tree trunk still, while the hat hanging on the old bough grew
plainer, just as it had been before.

They had walked back nearly three parts of the way when Robin
suddenly saw something which made him start, for there was a tiny
bit of something white above something dark, and those marks were
not on the brim of the hat before.